


Life on Mars

by Zandra_Court



Series: Agent Hotpants Series [3]
Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-31
Updated: 2012-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-02 19:42:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zandra_Court/pseuds/Zandra_Court
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lt. Hutchinson calls on an old friend to help with a rash of hate crimes, but the federal agent has an agenda of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life on Mars

Starsky stood next to Hutch at the front of the briefing room. 

“Geeze, Starsk, do you have any idea how filthy your jeans are?”

Starsky looked down and then over at Hutch’s slacks, dress shirt and tie. “They’re fine. I just haven’t done laundry yet.”

“If you’d just put them in the basket, I’d be happy to do them.” Hutch busied himself with going through the call sheets and made notes of what he wanted to cover.

“When it’s my turn, I do all of yours!”

“Because mine are in the basket. You seem to equate my doing the laundry with cleaning up after you. I wash what’s in the basket.” 

“Which is why my jeans are dirty. My clothes always have to last me two weeks.”

Hutch rubbed a hand over his face, somewhat exasperated. “Starsky, I’ve gotta do the briefing now. Go sit down.”

Starsky stood there for a minute. He knew that he had to walk a fine line with Hutch now. Lieutenant Hutchinson wasn’t his squad supervisor, so they’d managed to avoid any HR issues, but he couldn’t openly disobey him either. He stood next to the podium for a moment, just to remind Hutch that he needed to give his orders carefully, and then walked to the side and leaned against the wall. It was a small thing, but he never sat when Hutch did the shift briefings. It wasn’t to send a message; he just loved watching him work.

“All right everyone let’s get started. Extra patrols are being set for the Clyde Park area. There has been an increase of graffiti and vandalism to the store fronts and buildings. I’m sure none of you have missed the number of reporters hanging around over this, but a group calling themselves “Neo-Nazis” have been moving into Bay City from Los Angels and Arizona. As you can tell from the pictures Minnie is handing out, we’re seeing lots of swastikas, “nigger” and “Jewish Pig” getting put up. Even if it’s not your regular area, if you’re between calls, drive through. Be on the look out for white males, age 15-20, who have shaved their heads. We aren’t sure, but somehow the bald head is a marker.

"Moving on, vice will be running some coke busts over on Canal Street, so try to steer clear of that area for patrols. They will all be on Tac3, so when we’re done, we’ll have dispatch give an all clear.

"Finally, in response to our earlier mentioned issues with the Neo-Nazi group, the department has enlisted an expert in what are now being called Hate Crimes. He will have an office here at the 9th and is putting together a task force of six. If you’re interested in temporary assignment, talk to me or Lieutenant Curtis. OK, that’s it. Remember, your greatest asset out there is each other. Dismissed.”

Hutch took a drink of water as Starsky ambled over.

“Expert huh? Did they saddle you with some stuck-up college professor?”

“Not exactly.”

Starsky looked at his buddy, who had an expression that he knew meant he was avoiding telling him something. Suddenly he knew why. 

As all the uniforms were pushing out the door at the back of the briefing room, Starsky could see the top of a head he knew all too well.

“No.”

“What do you mean no, Starsk? He’s the best.”

Starsky gave Hutch a look of annoyance with a twinge of betrayal for not having told him this was coming.

“Sorry Starsk, it just kinda happened fast.”

“We both arrived at the precinct 25 minutes ago, in the same car I might add, and unless he can suddenly fly like Superman to get here from DC, there is no way it happened so fast you couldn’t mention it.”

Hutch looked a bit guilty, but since there were still a few straggling officers, he whispered, “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Count on it.”

Starsky turned to see Special Agent Carlson just a few paces away, approaching fast.

“Hey Agent Hotpants. What brings you so far from home?”

Hutch’s head jerked up, looked at the two men and then looked away, feeling heat creep up his neck.

“Sergeant Starsky, it’s wonderful to see you too.” Leaning in to whisper, “Just because we’re here, doesn’t mean the rules won’t apply.”

Hutch smiled to himself and had to turn away. The “rule” that Carlson would kiss him every time Starsky used the nickname the agent hated was not one Hutch had forgotten, though it seemed Starsky had.

Starsky smiled smugly at the man. “He’ll still be goin’ home with me, Fed.” He gave Hutch a “Don’t you dare” look and left.

Hutch held out his hand, which Agent Carlson shook, though his beautiful green eyes conveyed his true feelings at seeing him. Hutch suddenly felt a little weak, and dropped the man’s hand.

“How was your flight, G-man?”

Carlson looked around and seeing the briefing room empty said, “Long and hard, Ken-doll”

Hutch knew he was blushing now. “Are you going to make me regret asking you to help out on this?” he asked, looking down as he slid some files into his briefcase and started to walk back towards his office.

“Hey, sorry. No, I’m honored you asked me. It really has been a long trip.”

“Swing shift just went on, but I can take you over to the resident hotel the department has set you up in. You can get settled and we can meet Starsk for dinner break at 2100.”

“I haven’t had time to rent a car yet. I took a taxi straight here from the airport.”

“That’s OK. Department’s gonna give you an unmarked while you’re here. Cheaper than reimbursing you for mileage or paying for a rental.”

“Gotta say, I’m relieved. For a minute, I was afraid I was going to have to ride in your heap.”

“I’d be happy to have Starsk take you in the Tomato.”

“Somehow, I don’t think I’d make it there alive.”

Hutch laughed, “Probably not. C’mon, Minnie has all the paperwork for you.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It looks cozy.” Hutch walked through the small hotel suite. “Its even got one of those microwaves!”

“Don’t you have one?” Agent Carlson called from the bedroom. “They’re great. Best thing I’ve ever bought.”

“Starsk wants one, but every time I’ve ever tried to use the one in the squad room, food ends up rubbery or burnt. I’d rather just cook.”

Agent Carlson walked out, his tie loosened but not off because he knew they’d have to return to the precinct soon. He walked up and wrapped his arms around Hutch. “I get to give you a proper ‘Hello’ now.”

Hutch hugged Carlson’s waist in return which was thicker, more solid than Starsky’s trim, muscular waist, but that just made him feel comfortable. 

“It’s been a long time, G-man. Why didn’t you want to come out for the holidays this year?”

“I don’t know, just had stuff going on, I guess.”

“Well, you were missed.”

“Oh yeah? How much?”

Agent Carlson leaned in towards Hutch who knew what was coming and turned his head.

“Uh, we really shouldn’t be doing that, y’ know.”

G-man put a hand against Hutch’s cheek, turning his face back towards him.

“Rules are rules, Ken-doll” and their lips connected, moving softly at first, then taking more command, the agent’s tongue pushing through, demanding entrance.

Hutch went tingly as he always did whenever the agent kissed him. They’d done this before, even in front of Starsky, so he didn’t feel he had to protest too much. Not like his partner hadn’t been warned.

Carlson’s hand slid up and down Hutch’s arm as his lips and tongue continued to explore and ravish. The kiss was going longer than they ever had before, but Hutch was rationalizing. _He’s had a long flight. He’s tired and needs a little extra right now._

Then he felt the agent’s hand slip around behind him and push down into the waistband of his beige slacks. 

“Ok, G-man, that’s enough.” Hutch broke the kiss and put his hands on the man’s pectorals, not pushing but clearly in a position that he could if he had to.

Carlson’s breathing was heavy and Hutch noticed a look of lust he’d never seen on the man before. G-man was nothing if not in tight control of himself at all times.

“I’m sorry, Ken. Sorry. I guess…” Hutch relaxed at the man’s apology and sensing it, Agent Carlson was suddenly kissing him again. This time Hutch shoved him and stepped back, severing their contact.

“What is going on with you?”

“Oh, God, Ken. I don’t know.” 

Ken watched as the man paced a bit, struggling for control. “How about you get yourself settled and come on down to the precinct in an hour? It’ll be time to meet Starsky for dinner.” His tone was a bit hard and he knew the agent picked up on it.

“Yeah, OK. I need to call into the LA office anyway.” Agent Carlson wouldn’t look at him as Hutch walked over do the door. “Ken, wait. I am sorry. It’s kinda been a while, y’know?”

Hutch wasn’t entirely sure he did. A while since the man had seen him? A while since he’d had sex? Either way, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

“Don’t worry about it OK? See you back at Metro.” The lack of composure on the normally unflappable agent unsettled him greatly.

Once he got back to the car, he sat for a minute, partly to wait for his erection to subside. It wasn’t that G-man couldn’t turn him on. He’d reacted strongly to the man practically from the moment they met over three years ago. It was that attraction that had stirred Starsky out of his haze and brought them together as lovers.

And it’s not like making out with Agent Carlson was all that unusual. First they did in the name of their cover. Then it was more playful teasing, especially if they could rile Starsky with it. This time though, there was an intensity that had never been there before. G-man had kissed him like it was foreplay. It wasn’t like him at all.

Ironically, the only person Hutch wanted to talk to about the changes in his friend was Starsky, but he also knew that Starsk was the last person he should talk to about it. There were drawbacks to falling in love with your best friend.

He turned on the radio and blasted the country station so he wouldn’t have to think about it as he drove back to his office.

Not think about it? _Yeah, right._ There was no volume he could turn Micky Gillis up to that would drown this out.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Agent Carlson had returned to the precinct, he was the strong, confident FBI agent he’d always been. Hutch had kept his distance as they met with Chief Dunbar, Dobey and the new PR officer they’d hired. Her name was Kennedy and she was very publicity savvy and adorable. Her ease with reporters and in front of the camera, her good looks, and confidence had done wonders for the department’s image, especially with the increased notoriety of the actions of this new gang.

“Don’t dismiss them as just another street gang, Chief.” Carlson leaned forward. “They are organized: Nationally and underground. They might look like street punks, but they are passionate about their ideology.”

“They can’t actually be attempting to bring back Nazism?” Hutch asked incredulously.

“They can and are.”

“But most of them are kids! Whatever happened to throwing off the shackles of imperialism?”

Carlson shook his head and smiled. “This isn’t your generation Lieutenant. You’re now twenty years older than they are. Every generation decries the one before. We had sex, drugs and rock & roll. Now they’re all about money and power, especially white power. They see what we did as destroying society and they want to take it back to the good old days.”

Dobey snorted, “The good ole days when I was a dishwasher or pickin’ cotton.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Carlson nodded.

“OK, Agent Carlson, we brought you out here for a reason.” Chief Dunbar said. “What do you suggest we do?”

“I think we need to give them something to rally around in order to draw them out. One of the agents who’s been working some angles out of the LA office mentioned there is a gated community over by the ocean.”

“I know what you’re talking about.” Officer Kennedy spoke up. “They’ve had some legal challenges to their charters, people saying they don’t allow blacks to move in, even if they have the money.”

“Exactly. The Agency has court-ordered control of one of the properties because we busted the owner for smuggling dope across state lines. I propose we put some officers in there undercover.”

“I could put Sergeant Williams’ family in there. I happen to know their lease is up this month on his house. He was talking to Starsky about properties near us.”

“Actually, I already have the officers in mind, Lieutenant.”

Hutch was surprised. Who would Carlson know except…

Turning to the Captain and the Chief, Carlson said, “I suggest Sergeant Starsky and Sergeant Meredith have this assignment.”

“No way!” Hutch stood up.

“Lieutenant Hutchinson!” Captain Dobey bellowed a voice that years of working for the man immediately made Hutch shut up and look at him.

“They would draw attention fast.” Carlson pushed. “He’s Jewish and she’s black. Interracial couples are a huge problem for this group, and to couple that with them moving into this neighborhood, it will be a situation they will find impossible to ignore.”

“I agree.” Chief Dunbar said as he stood up. “Harold, I want them briefed as soon as they come in from their shift tonight.”

“Yes sir.” Dobey said, glancing at Hutch who had moved to the wall at the back of his office. 

Hutch struggled because it made sense and he knew it. But he also knew this would be an intense, long-term cover op and emotionally, he didn’t want Starsk to have any part of it, for reasons too many to list.

Meeting over, Hutch returned to his office. He heard the latch click and turned to see that G-man had followed him in.

“It’s a good op, Ken and you know it.”

The lieutenant stood over his desk, not lifting his head. “I can’t help but notice that you’ve put Starsky in a position that effectively takes him out of my life for a while.”

“You can’t honestly think I would set this up to get into your pants.”

Lifting his head up, he looked hard into the agent’s eyes. “Up until two hours ago, I would not have thought that possible.”

“Then trust me now, Ken. It’s a good set up. I came up with it before I even got out here. I didn’t know about the housing community, but I’ve met Sergeant Meredith at your place a few times. She and Starsky seem to have an easy way together.”

“They’ve partnered a few times on joint ops between vice and homicide.” Hutch admitted.

“There! See. Even if I didn’t know them, you can’t deny they would have been chosen anyway.”

“I’m not going to order them. They have to both agree to it.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Agent Carlson looked almost relieved, which right now was only making Hutch more suspicious.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where’s my red shirt?” Starsky called from the closet as he pulled shirts off the hangers and tossed them into his suitcase.

“Did you look on the floor?” Hutch said drolly from the kitchen where he sat drinking a cup of tea.

“Very funny, smart-ass.” Starsky hollered back. “Can I take those cotton pajamas of yours? Mer probably won’t want me wearing my usual to bed, y'know.”

“You don’t wear anything to bed.” Hutch called back.

“Exactly.”

“They’re in the bottom drawer, on the left.” Hutch hadn’t worn them himself in years, preferring to sleep nude now too. Both he and Starsk used to wear underwear and a t-shirt to bed, back before they were together. Now, even if they didn’t make love, they liked being able to feel each other. Hutch’s gut twisted a little at the realization that he was going to sleep alone again for the first time in three and a half years and he felt broody.

“The department said they’d give you twin beds for the house, y’know.”

Starsky came out of the room and went to the book shelf, pulling down some of his favorite titles and tossed them into his duffel.

“I know. Mer and I talked about it. We decided that if anyone came over, it could blow our cover. A king bed will be fine.”

Hutch nodded silently. He wasn’t exactly jealous. It was more that he didn’t want Starsk to go.

Sensing that something was up, Starsky walked over, grabbed Hutch by the hand, pulled him up and wrapped his arms around him. 

“Hey, Blintz, I’m gonna miss curling up next to your smooth body tonight. Don’t doubt that for a minute.”

Hutch nuzzled into the embrace and nodded. “Me too.”

“This will be a good op. Mer and I are ready and Agent Hotpants was right, this is gonna stir the hornet’s nest.”

Hutch smiled at his partner, “You really should stop calling him that.”

“Why? His ‘rules’ don’t mean shit.”

Hutch looked uncomfortable and Starsky immediately froze.

“Why you got that look? You didn’t let him…you did!” Starsky took a step back and stared at him.

“Starsky, don’t get all upset. He’s kissed me lots of times.”

“Don’t you even try to give me that shit! You’re not some teenage school girl! That man doesn’t get what he wants unless you give it to him!” Starsky was started to throw stuff into his bags again.

Hutch suddenly found himself angry. “You’re about to go play house with a woman you’ve had sex with!”

“That’s totally different! I’m only going to live with her for the cover. What you did was by choice! Your choice!”

Hutch wanted to yell something back, but there was no argument to be made.

“Thought so.” Starsky threw the strap of the duffel over his shoulder and grabbed his suitcase. “Well, now I’m out of the way thanks to your…whatever the hell he is. What? A fuck-buddy?”

“Starsky, you’re an ass, y’know that.”

Fuming with rage, Starsky just stormed out, slamming the door behind him.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thanks, uh, Peggy, right?” Starsky shook the hand of his new “neighbor” as he took the plate of cookies she’d brought over. She was clearly shocked when he’d opened the door, armed wrapped around Mer and introduced himself and his "wife", but given that she had the plate of cookies in front of her, she couldn’t back out now.

Sergeant Meredith smiled sweetly at the woman. “We were so excited when my old college roommate’s sister said we could lease her house!” Whispering, to Peggy, she said, “I guess her husband is having some trouble.”

“This is a beautiful place, Babe. I’m gonna call Mr. Goldstein and see about putting an offer down.” Starsky emphasized this with a kiss and nuzzle to Meredith’s ear.

“Yes, well, I really should be getting back to the kids.” Peggy was clearly anxious to make a hasty retreat. 

Starsky couldn’t resist putting his arms around Mer and grinding his hips into her, saying, “We’re hoping to have a whole bunch of kids, ain’t we Baby?” He buried his face in her neck.

“Sure honey.” She looked at Peggy knowingly, “They only ever want one thing huh?”

Peggy smiled uncomfortably and was all the way down the walk way before Starsky lifted his eyes and watched her go.

Closing the front door, Meredith walked into the kitchen. “Well if that display doesn’t have their tongues wagging, I don’t know what will.” She walked through the kitchen, opening cabinets and checking drawers. “At least we’re pretty well stocked.”

Starsky walked up close to her standing as near as he could without touching her. She was used to him invading her personal space because the man seemed to not have any of his own.

“We’re gonna need to get some food. I’ll cook tonight. Jerk Chicken alright?”

Starsky’s eyes sparkled, “With Dirty Rice?” He practically bounced like a little boy.

“Oh, Cowboy, if I send you back to that blond hottie of yours 10 pounds heavier, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Starsky’s eyes darkened and his brow furrowed at the mention of Hutch.

Not missing a thing, Meredith asked, “What happened? You and Hutch have a fight?”

“Somethin’ like that. Don’t wanna talk about it.” Starsky went to the family room just off the kitchen, flipped on the TV.

“OK Cowboy OK. I’m going shopping.”

“You got your piece right?”

Meredith leveled a gaze at him, “What kinda officer you take me for?”

Starsky smiled and nodded, “One I know better than to underestimate.”

“Damn straight.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hutch woke up earlier than normal. He had three days off as part of his usual rotation, which he’d asked Captain Dobey to change because he hated sitting at home while Starsky was on assignment. Dobey’d refused, saying, “Hutchinson, if you start messing with the schedule every time your partner is under cover, the other Lieutenants are going to start to complain. You and Starsky aren’t all that accepted, even if people don’t say anything. Married officers don’t get to claim special privilege over schedules and assignments. I can’t have it look like you get special treatment.”

His Captain was right, but it still stuck in his gut that it was true. There weren’t all that many officers who were married to each other, but those that were, got benefits and bereavement rights and he knew for a fact that the Lieutenants manipulated the schedule for all kinds of reasons, like fishing trips. 

The house felt very empty without Starsky in it. He decided to busy himself out on the patio repotting some of his plants, even if they didn’t need it. There was just something about working with his hands in silence that soothed him and energized him at the same time. 

He popped the cassette soundtrack of _Urban Cowboy_ into the portable player that sat under the eaves on the patio. He hadn’t really liked the movie, but the soundtrack was very good. Since Starsk wasn’t there, he could turn the sound up. His partner had tried to talk him into getting one of those Walkman players, but he didn’t like the look of the headphones. He wanted to listen to his music and have full freedom to move around without metal and foam over his ears. 

“I was lookin' for love in all the wrong places,” Hutch sang along as he pulled out more potting soil from a wooden storage box. “Lookin' for love in too many places. Searchin' her eyes, lookin' for traces, of what I'm dreamin' of. Hoping to find a friend and a lover, I'll bless the day I discover, You - lookin' for love.”

“Lookin’ for me?” Agent Carlson asked as Hutch jumped and spun on him, nearly punching him.

“Jesus-fuck, you startled me! How’d you get in here?” Hutch was breathing hard, trying to recover from the adrenaline rush.

“I could hear the music from the driveway, so I came in through the gate.” Agent Carlson smoothed Hutch’s shoulders, rubbing lightly up and down. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have come up on you like that.” He smiled and those dimples made Hutch forgive him. More than once, Hutch wished he wasn’t so taken in by this man’s looks.

Turning back to his pots, he asked, “Why are you here G-man?”

“Just killing time I guess. I have some of the task force out, asking around about our two little love birds, trying to see what the chatter is. No one’s reported back yet, so I thought I’d come see you. There was a time when you liked hanging out with me.”

The accusation wasn’t missed, and he turned to his friend. “I think you know that’s not what I’m saying. I’m not oblivious to the fact that you are acting different, so don’t pretend you’re the same ‘ole G-man. It’s an insult to our friendship and to me.” Agent Carlson actually looked chagrined, which further puzzled Hutch. He looked up to this man in so many ways.

“Wanna go inside and have a beer?” Hutch brushed off his hands and started to walk into the house.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Hutch stopped at the sink to wash and nodded towards the fridge. “In there.” 

Agent Carlson pulled out two beers and glanced at his watch. “It’s only 11:00 in the morning.”

“Yeah, but I get the feeling that you could use a little booze in your system right now. It’s 5 o’clock somewhere.”

“I’ll drink to that” Agent Carlson clinked his bottle to Hutch’s.

Hutch sat at the kitchen table. He saw G-man glance at the couch, but he needed the structure and distance the table would afford them at the moment. As the agent sat down, he asked, “So, what’s this all about?”

“You remember me talking about Agent Hillman? He was one of the guys from my very first academy group?”

Hutch nodded, “Wasn’t he the one who told you in academy that he was gay?”

“Yeah. He’s whip smart and was one of the first agents to specialize in geographic profiling. Practically founded the field.” Hutch nodded, encouraging him to go on. “He’s no longer an agent.” He spoke those words with an almost tremble and Hutch’s stomach fell. 

“Was he killed in the line?”

Sucking in a breath, G-man said, “Not exactly. He tested positive.”

Hutch looked down at the table. The Boogey Man of the gay community. Not even two weeks ago, Rock Hudson had announced that he had tested positive. He and Starsk knew enough about it to feel they were safe, since they’d never slept with anyone but each other.

“I’m sorry for him.” Hutch reached over and took G-man’s hand. “Had you two…”

Agent Carlson wrapped his other hand over Hutch’s. “No, Mark wasn’t one of my lovers.”

Lovers. Plural. Hutch didn’t want to ask, but felt compelled to. “Gunnar, have you had yourself tested?”

Agent Carlson looked up at the ceiling, blinking fast. “I did. After Mark called me, I did. It was the longest few weeks of my life.” Hutch squeezed his hand, feeling sad that he’d had to go through that alone.

Taking a deep breath, G-man looked at him. “It was negative.” Hutch couldn’t help smiling, but noticed that the fed didn’t. “It’s like I dodged a bullet. Granted, I haven’t been active in the scene for probably 10 years, but I haven’t exactly been celibate either.”

Feeling restless, Agent Carlson stood up and paced around the kitchen. “But that whole time, when I was waiting, scared to death about what would happen, I spent a lot of time thinking about my life.”

Hutch stood up and walked over to the counter, leaning against it. Watching the other man move around made it hard for him to just sit there.

“I’d think that would be natural. I got really sick once, infected by this microscopic creature that was multiplying inside my body, eating away at me. Those days in isolation were awful. Even Starsky couldn’t help much. I sent him away because when he was there, all I could focus on was how scared I was.” Hutch blinked at the memories. The only part of that time he liked to remember was waking up to see the letters S-T-A-R-S-K written across the glass of the window.

“Yeah!” Agent Carlson stopped, a slight look of excitement at being understood. “I was scared, but I also kept thinking about how lonely it was. I had no one to share my fear with and I kept thinking about what if it came back positive? Would I just die alone?”

Hutch looked at him then. “You’re only as alone as you want to be. Starsky and I would have been there for you.”

G-man walked over and stood in front of him, hesitatingly putting his hands on Hutch’s crossed arms. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to call you.”

Hutch opened his arms and rested his hands on the man’s waist. “I would have listened.”

Agent Carlson leaned in, wrapping his arms around Hutch’s back, drawing him close, and spoke into ear, “I want to grow old with someone. I want what you and Starsky have.” Hutch could feel the wetness of tears against his face.

“You’ll find someone.”

“That’s just it, Ken.” Agent Carlson pulled his head back and looked into those light blue eyes. “I have found him.”

Hutch looked questioningly into the brilliant green eyes that held his. “Who?”

“You.” G-man leaned in and kissed him, slow and softly at first, but rapidly increasing the pressure. Hutch felt the man’s tongue lap at his lips and he pulled his head back.

“You can’t…I’m not…”

“Please Ken-doll.” G-man pleaded. “I know you feel something about me.” He slid his hand down to rub the almost fully erect cock, that only grew more turgid at the touch. Hutch had never felt so betrayed by his own anatomy.

Shifting his body, trying to move, despite being pinned between the counter and the weight of the FBI agent, he struggled to find words. “It’s not that simple, Gunnar and you know it.” He was finally able to wiggle out and walked over to stand behind the couch.

G-man stayed where he was, looking at the floor, then turned to face Hutch’s back.

“I’m in love with you, Ken. I’ve known it since that first time I kissed you. You’re smart, an excellent officer, kind, thoughtful, hot as hell…”

“And taken” Hutch turned around to face him.

Agent Carlson walked up to him confidently, stopping just inside Hutch’s personal space, reminding him of that other morning almost four years ago, when this man had kissed him for the very first time.

“It’s not like you’re married or anything. I know you feel this too. I know I can’t be imagining it.”

“No,” Hutch admitted. “I care about you very much. And yeah, looking at you, makes me... react.” He smiled. “But I’ve been with Starsky for 12 years. That’s not nothing. I’ve been married. Having a piece of paper doesn’t mean anything. It’s what’s in here that matters.” He laid his hand over his heart.

Carlson put his hand over Hutch’s, a desperately sad look on his face. “You’re sure there isn’t room in there for me?”

Hutch’s heart was breaking at having to do this. In another life, he knew he could fall hard for this man. “I’m sure.”

Agent Carlson pulled his hand away and rubbed it over his face, taking several sharp intakes of breath. “I guess I knew this is what you’d say. But if I’d never told you…”

Hutch felt such pity for him and tried to rub his back in comfort, but the other man pulled away. “No, it’s OK. I should go check in with the op center. I’ve been gone too long. Thanks, Lieutenant.” Without looking back, he walked out the door, closing it firmly behind him, leaving Hutch feeling unsettled and very much alone.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Starsky was lying on his left side, staring at reflections of moonlight on the walls. It was harder to sleep with Sergeant Meredith than he’d thought it would be. The bed was big enough they could keep to their own sides and he’d put a pillow length-wise between them after the first night when he’d woken up with his arm draped over her waist.

As he listened to the low, shallow rhythm of her breathing, he thought about how intimate it was to sleep with someone. Not to have sex, but to sleep near them. The trust it took to fall asleep next to someone had never felt as powerful as it did in this moment.

Insomnia drove his thoughts from that to his check-in with Agent Carlson earlier that day. They’d stood in the parking lot of the local grocery, chatting like old friends who’d run into each other.

“How’s it going?” the fed had asked him.

“Kinda slow really. We’ve met all the neighbors now and we’ve gone out and about plenty, but everyone pretty much ignores us.”

“Agent Thomsen says the chatter is moving on you though the groups, so keep doing what you’re doing.”

“I was thinking that since the 4th of July is coming up, we could pretend to go out of town for a bit. It’s been two weeks since I was home.”

“Hutch’s doing fine, if you’re worried.” Agent Carlson said almost too casually.

“I wasn’t.” He tried very hard to cover his annoyance at the man’s implication that he knew more about Hutch’s current status than Starsky did.

“Good. Actually, we want you and Meredith to make a point of telling everyone you will both be at the Association’s picnic and fireworks show. It seems the perfect place to draw them into the open.”

Starsky looked the agent hard in the eyes. “You want us to be bait, but you haven’t said what exactly it is you're hunting.”

Agent Carlson looked at Starsky for a moment. If there was one thing he had over his partner it was that his street sense was significantly more developed. No wonder he and Hutch had been such an amazing undercover team.

“One of the groups has been talking about sending a message. We haven’t been able to get a clear line on what they plan to do, however. So, the thinking is that if we hand them an opportunity on a platter, they will be too stupid to pass it up. 

“The picnic is for people who live in the community and up to four of their guests. Your guests will all be officers and then we will plant as many agents as we can as hired help around the grounds. We’ll wire you and Meredith, so it’s pretty low risk, all told.”

“Who will command the op?”

“Agent Thomsen will from the ground and I’ll be one of your friends at the party.”

“What about our people?”

“What about them?”

Starsky hated the fact that Feds always played dense. “Who from the department will be there?”

“Captain Dobey will be your liaison.”

Starsk nodded and shook the agent's hand for the benefit of anyone watching. “See ya around, G-man.” He climbed into the Torino, watching the agent walk away. It bothered him that Hutch wasn’t going to be on the op. In the last 18 months he’d done several undercover stings without his partner, but this was the first where he was going to have his ass hanging in the breeze. Why didn’t Hutch want to be there? They’d talked a few times in the last two weeks, but it was mostly just polite conversation. He desperately wanted to talk to Hutch about the way they had left things, but he wanted to touch and see his partner when he did, so he’d kept their conversations mellow.

The clock now read 3:30am, as he rolled over trying to block out the memories that were only making it harder to sleep. Now that he was facing the other side, he noticed shadows dance across the window. His first thought was that it was a cat, but then there was a loud crash as something large and on fire broke through the bedroom window.

He rolled back over and off the bed, grabbing his Baretta off the nightstand as he did so. In the same instant, Sergeant Meredith had rolled off the other side, pulling her 9mm from the shelf under her nightstand. They both crouched next to the bed for moment as they heard yelling from outside.

“Go Home Niggers!”

Starsky crouched low along the far side of the bed and looked at the flaming object that flickered on the carpet in the middle of the room. It seemed to be a brick wrapped in a strip of cloth that had been soaked in lighter fluid, from the smell of it. The carpet was melting around it, but the fire seemed to be dying on its own. He rolled the brick a few times to put it out.

He looked over at Meredith who had crept over to the wall and was now standing next to the window frame, back to the wall. She motioned to Starsky to crawl out to the bedroom door, nodding at her piece, indicating she would cover him. She brought her gun down, pointing it at the floor, both hands on it.

Starsky rolled twice and crouched up again. From this side of the room, he could see light out front and stood against the door jamb, glancing down the hall. 

“Mer?” He whispered.

“Here Cowboy.”

“Can you get to me?”

He felt her brush against his back. “Already here.”

“Let’s see if we can get out to the kitchen. I wanna see who we can make out from the window there.”

“OK, boss. You got point.”

By the time they’d covered the house out to the kitchen, there was no one out front anymore. But they could see where the light was coming from.

Holding his gun slightly behind his left thigh, he opened the front door to see the four-foot burning cross stuck in the front lawn.

Mer was by his side, leaning on him, her left hand gripping his right elbow. “In all my life, Cowboy, I ain’t never seen one of those for real.” The shudder in her voice made him wrap his arm around her waist and pull her back into the house.

“Wish I could say the same, sweetheart.” And he closed and bolted the door behind him.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Since when do you dictate the resources of this department?” Hutch bellowed in a manner that did Dobey proud as he thrust a finger into Agent Thomsen’s face.

“Since you asked for the Bureau’s help Lieutenant.” Thomsen snapped back. Agent Carlson sat on the far side of the room, hands resting on his belt, watching.

“We asked for you to advise, not to run the show!” Hutch kept at the man.

Dobey knew enough of his young protégé that he could tell it was time to break in.

“Agent Thomsen, you have the right to set the conditions of the operation, but not who I assign as department liaison. Lt. Hutchinson is the only lieutenant who doesn’t have holiday duty this year, so putting him on the operation means I don’t need to pull my men from the regular duties this city needs them to perform. He will be on the op and that is final.”

Hutch looked triumphantly at both Thomsen and Carlson, whose face was unreadable. “Thank-you, Captain,” he said as he walked out the back door of his Captain’s office.

Sixteen days. That’s how long it had been since he’d laid eyes on his partner and hell would freeze before he’d allow a dangerous operation to go down without him close by.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was 6:00 AM now. Starsky and Meredith had tossed out the brick and hosed down the cross, which fortunately hadn’t been set with a water-proof accelerant. Starsky had cleaned up the broken glass as Meredith taped together several grocery bags over the window. 

Walking into the bedroom after emptying the last of the glass into the garbage can in the garage, Starsky found Mer leaning against the wall by the window, her gun tied into the sash of her bathrobe.

“You OK?” He walked up, pulling her Nine from the belt and laying it on the night table on her side of the bed. She was clearly a bit dazed because she didn’t even react to his disarming her.

“My mama used to tell me about that happening. It’s like discovering the monsters under the bed are real.”

Starsky wrapped his arms around her, putting a hand on the back of her head and drawing her face into the crook of his neck.

“We’re OK.” He whispered. “You’re OK.”

Getting the permission she needed, she chocked on a sob and let her tears fall. He held her close, rubbing her back lightly.

Crying was not something Sergeant Meredith allowed to go on for too long. Soon, she lifted her head and looked into those deep eyes, made darker blue by the early morning light. “I’ve never felt that fear before.”

Starsk nodded. “It happened to me once. My Pop was sent down to Georgia for the summer to interim for a rabbi who had died. He’d taken me along because Ma was pregnant with my brother and he thought it would make it easier on her. Our first night there, we woke up to that. I hadn’t known my Pop carried a gun until that night.”

Understanding washed through Mer’s face and she laid her head against Starsky’s shoulder. Not knowing why, maybe to help erase the pain, she started to lightly kiss the front of his chest, right below his neck.

Memories from five years ago flooded Starsky at the lightness of her touch. Operating on pure instinct, he lifted his chin up, giving her more neck to lick and nip. Bringing his hand up, he found a tight nipple puckering off of soft flesh, squeezing and massaging her breast as his cock bulged loose against in his pajama pants. Hutch’s pajamas.

 _Hutch!_ He let go of her so suddenly, she had to take a step to keep from falling over.

They both looked at one another, panting slightly.

“This is a bad idea, Cowboy.” She said as she groped her hands behind her, searching for the wall that had been her source of support before Starsky had come in.

“Yeah.” Starsky’s voice was strained and he felt shockwaves shoot from his dick in protest. It was as if Lil’ Davey was screaming for being sent to bed without dessert. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Good idea.” Meredith said as she stared at the length of Starsky’s manhood arching the thin cotton of his pajamas, cursing silently to herself as she remembered the exquisite feeling that part of his anatomy had given her so long ago.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hutch woke up the morning of July 4th, 1984 with an unshakable sense of dread. Carlson told him that they had to get something going by the end of the week because agents were all going to be pulled by the 15th for duty at the Olympics, which were being held in L.A. This was the only shot they were going to get. He didn’t like ops where there was pressure to make the bust. Sometimes you had to go where the op took you, not where you wanted the op to go.

G-man showed up at his door, dressed in a t-shirt with an American Flag across the front and over one shoulder. They’d agreed to meet at the house because Hutch insisted he be one of the four guests allowed by the Association.

Looking at Carlson, he noticed the agent had holstered his gun at his waist, t-shirt covering its existence. It certainly seemed less cumbersome than his own shoulder holster.

“You’re making me look old.” Hutch complained as he looked at his own madras shorts, undershirt and large button-up over shirt that he had to wear to conceal the fact that he was armed.

“I thought you might think that.” Agent Carlson reached into his gear duffle and withdrew a Glock 17 nestled in a hard-as-stone leather hip holster. “Here.”

Hutch looked at the weapon with incredulity. “I’ve not qualified on that. Besides, it’s fuckin’ tiny.”

G-man, pushed it at him anyway. “That hunk of steel you carry is fine if you’re chasing cattle rustlers down through Texarkana, but it’s time you learned that guns don’t have to be big to still be effective.”

Hutch rolled his eyes and took the piece from the fed. “All our agents are issued these now. The kick is lighter and it holds three times the rounds.”

Hutch pulled it from the holster, aimed it at the floor and pulled back the slide. It did feel lighter in his hand. He flicked off the safety with his thumb and laid his finger alongside the trigger housing. “I don’t know that I want to go in with something I’ve never fired.”

Agent Carlson gestured to the back yard with his head. “We have some time. Let’s go shoot some cans.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They arrived at the house Starsky and Meredith had been calling home for almost 3 weeks. Hutch could hear music inside. Michael Jackson’s Thriller album was blasting. Mer’s influence clearly held sway over Starsky in a way that his own musical tastes never seemed too. On the other hand, what better way to set the old folks of this neighborhood off the edge?

It had been so long since he’d seen Starsky, he felt his stomach clench and suddenly wondered if this was such a good idea.

“Welcome both of you!” Meredith greeted them at the door. She gave G-man and Hutch a hug in quick succession, holding Hutch for a brief second longer, whispering in his ear, “Go into the garage. I’ll send him along in a moment.”

Hutch nodded and went in the direction she’d indicated. He found the door easily, since it was clearly made of metal instead of wood. He went into the darkened garage. There were small, high windows along the far wall, allowing light in. Without the air conditioning, the air in the garage felt thick and heavy. He walked down the side of the Torino, running his hand along the fender, as if touching it would be akin to touching Starsky himself.

Hearing the door open, he turned and saw his partner for the first time in way too long. Starsky wore denim shorts, but they were longer and the seams at the leg told him they weren’t just cut out of an old pair of jeans. He had on a tight-fitting, dark blue t-shirt that stretched across his pectorals, v-neck dipping to reveal tufts of dark hair. Sunglasses were perched at the top of his head.

Starsky walked slowly towards him. “I asked Mer to have you meet me in here.”

Hutch stayed frozen where he was, leaning against the car. “Why’d you do that?”

Starsky looked a bit hurt that the reason wasn’t obvious and Hutch looked away from him. Starsky stopped advancing. “Why do you think, dummy?”

Hutch looked back at him, wishing he didn’t feel so nervous. He crossed his arms, then uncrossed them. It was like he was stuttering with his body. That thought made Starsky soften and close the gap between them quickly, pinning Hutch between himself and the car.

He ran his hand through Hutch’s blond hair and said, “Oh God, I’ve missed you Blintz.”

Hearing his nickname undid him and Hutch grabbed his lover's face in both hands and started to kiss him wildly, thrusting his tongue into Starsky’s mouth, lips roving over lips in a mad frenzy that lasted for minutes.

Finally, they rested foreheads against each other, panting. “This is why I wanted to meet you in the garage, Hutch.”

“You’re a smart man, Gordo.” Hutch breathed back. “But, I hope I can convince this hard-on to go away or we’re gonna spend the day in here.”

Starsky laughed and wrapped strong arms around his waist, then pulled his right arm back, lifting up Hutch’s shirt. “What the hell is that?”

Hutch tried to pull the hem of his shirt back down. “It’s a gun Starsky, or don’t you remember we’re cops anymore?”

Starsky looked at him with a funny expression. “It’s no big deal. G-man thought my .357 would be too hard to cover up.”

“You ever shot a Glock before?” Starsky stood back.

“A little. Right before we came over. The neighbors actually called a black & white over to the house when we were practicing. I’ll have to take Mrs. Henderson some flowers or something.”

Stiffening, Starsky stepped back further, “He’s been over to the house a lot then?”

The lack of trust in his partner’s attitude was triggering the same anger he’d felt three weeks before. “You just asked me if I’d shot this gun and now you’re going to be pissed that G-man had me practice with it.”

“That’s not why I’m pissed and you know it!” Starsky walked to the front of the car and put his hands on the hood, looking down as he tried to control himself.

“Starsky, has it ever occurred to you that it might be rather annoying to be constantly accused of fucking Gunnar? Your jealousy is obnoxious as hell.”

Looking up, rage barely simmering, he said in a very low voice, “Have you fucked him?”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer,” and Hutch walked out of the garage, leaving Starsky to stand in the heat alone.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How they’d managed to get down to the picnic area was a minor miracle and a testament to the strength of their undercover skills. Starsky was a very attentive husband, Hutch thought, as he watched him interact with Sergeant Meredith. For his part, he mingled through the crowd along the small private beach where the community had gathered. It wasn’t lost on him that he was well received amongst the neighborhood, until he told people whose friend he was. Still, they seemed to regard him almost as lost child to be drawn back. 

Overall the picnic went off fairly uneventfully and towards dusk, they were packing up their food and getting ready to watch fireworks on the beach. Several of the twenty-something daughters of the older residents had been hitting on him and he was trying to figure out which of them he could sit with and still be near to Starsky and Meredith, when he heard it.

Time slowed as he recalled meaning of the swooshing sound and with legs of J-ello he turned towards Starsky, willing them to move. 

Starsky had been standing behind Meredith, his chest to her back as she packed up food into the cooler.

The bullet hit her first, slicing through her left side, below her collar bone. Starsky had turned at just the right moment because the shot that sailed right through Mer, came to rest inside his left bicep. 

Hutch knocked them both to the ground, pulling the Glock from its holster at his right side and crouching low over them, he scanned the crowd that was now scattering. Agent Carlson was beside him in an instant. “Stay with them. That was a sniper round, so we’re not looking at anyone close. Keep low and look far.”

“Hutch.” Starsky’s voice was shaky but not quiet.

“Right here buddy.”

“I can’t draw my gun.”

Hutch turned and saw the blood soaking through the material of his black and white checkered shirt. Starsky was trying to un-holster his gun with his right hand.

“You couldn’t shoot with your right anyway, Starsk.” He pulled off his own t-shirt and tied it tight around Starsky’s arm. Next, he turned his attention to Meredith, who was looking up at him but not talking.  
“You’re gonna be OK Mer.” Hutch said, as he put his hand over the hole in her chest. “Hang in there with me, Sergeant.” Her eyes flicked in Starsky’s direction and she started to mouth words. Leaning in he tried to hear her, but got nothing as her eyes closed.

“Meredith! Wake up, hon!” Hutch slapped her face, but not too hard. Her eyes opened again and she nodded, gasping. The sound of sirens started to echo and Hutch silently prayed they would hurry up.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several agents, Dobey, Hutch and Officer Kennedy gathered in a closed room off the waiting area of the hospital.

“We were able to track the sniper’s trajectory, but he was gone before we got there. However, our undercover agent knows who had been given the assignment, so we should have him in custody in before day's end.” Agent Thomsen said.

“Your agent? You’ve had a man inside?” Hutch asked to no one in particular

“Only recently.” Agent Carlson interjected, knowing what Hutch was gunning for. “We finally got him in two days ago. He’s been building a friendship with a few of the guys for months, but only got to meet the leaders recently.”

Hutch looked him square in they eye. “Did you know there was a sniper?” 

The accusation in Hutch’s eyes was painful for the Fed to endure. “I knew it was one of several possible scenarios.”

Hutch grabbed the agent; throwing him against the wall, rage flowing. “You wanted this to happen!” He grabbed Carlson’s lapels and slammed him against the wall two more times before Dobey and Agent Thomsen were able to pull him off the man. Shaking, Hutch stormed out of the room.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hutch held Starsky’s right elbow as he guided his partner up the stairs to their home. 

“My arm’s in a sling. I’m not an invalid, y’know. Pretty sure I can still navigate the stairs on my own.”

“But if you were to fall, you wouldn’t be able to brace yourself.”

Starsky nodded at his partner’s logic, insane as it was. Five years ago, his partner had nursed him back from far worse gunshot wounds, but he also knew that Hutch needed to feel helpful right now.

“You want me to make you something to eat?”

“Actually, the pain medication is making me kinda sleepy. You mind if I just go lay down?”

“Not at all. Let me get your pillow and stuff.”

“Hutch?” His partner stopped and looked at him. “See, I still got one good arm. I can handle it.” Starsky waved his right hand.

“Oh, yeah. Um, sorry.”

Starsky pulled him into a hug with that one good arm and said, “You’re the best. I’ll feel better when my head isn’t quite so foggy.”

By the time Starsky regained consciousness; it was clearly late at night. He’d slept on his back, pillows piled to slightly elevate his torso. Shifting brought a wince of pain and he heard Hutch’s voice ask, “You want some more meds?”

“Can we try those big pills? The ones doc says I’m supposed to transition to? I don’t want any more vicodin.”

“Sure, I’ll get them.” Hutch returned with the bottle and a large glass of water.

“You sure you don’t want the good stuff?” Hutch asked him as he put the pill in his hand.

“Yeah. What that stuff does to my head is worse than the pain.”

Climbing into bed once more, Hutch laid on his side, looking with concern at his partner.

“I heard you tossed Agent Hotpants around a little.” Starsky turned his head towards Hutch, not even bothering to hide his smirk.

Hutch snorted a little and rolled onto his back.

“Who told you that?”

“He did.”

Hutch sat up and looked down into his partner’s face. “What do you mean?”

“Just what I said, Blondie. He came to debrief me early yesterday morning. But I don’t think the op was what he really wanted to talk about.”

“What did he say?”

“It was true confession time for the Fed. He apologized for not telling me about the possibility of the sniper. He also told me that he was in love with you.”

“Starsk, nothing happened.”

Starsky held up his right hand. “Don’t. It’s OK. He told me you turned him down. He also said that I was to always remember how lucky I was or he’d make me sing soprano, if you get my drift.”

Hutch laughed lightly at that and clasped a hold of Starsky’s right hand as he continued,“I have to confess something myself.”

“What?” Hutch squeezed his hand encouragingly.

“Those weeks with Mer. There were times, when we almost…we didn’t, but it’s not like there wasn’t a spark y’know?” Hutch did, but kept quiet.

“It made me think that maybe sometimes, getting turned on by someone else might happen. But it’s what you do with it that matters. I didn’t go through with it with Mer, even though the wanting was pretty strong. Is that… That’s what he is for you huh?”

Hutch laid down along side his best friend and lover, resting his head on Starsky’s chest, feeling that strong arm wrap around his shoulders. “Yeah, it is. I can’t help that I feel for G-man. I don’t know if that will ever go away. But it’s you that I love Starsky.”

“I love you too, Hutch.”

Hutch leaned upwards, his lips finding Starsky’s, gently kissing him before moving down to kiss and nip at his neck. Groaning a little, Starsky dropped his arm as Hutch moved on top of him, kissing slowly down his neck until he found a small, tanned nipple, licking it and blowing gentle air across it, watching it harden. His hand slid up the belly covered in dark curls, fingers finding the mate of the one being suckled so sweetly.

Growing harder and thicker, Starsky rolled his hips to try and shift his sweat pants. Never taking his lips off the small nub, Hutch’s right hand slid down and pulled on the edge of his partner’s sweats. Starsk lifted his hips off the bed enough they could be pulled down. Hutch’s palm sliding along the shaft of Starsky’s penis as he removed the soft, grey fabric.

“Oh, yeah.” He moaned. “You did that on purpose.”

Hutch lifted his head up and smiled, “Maybe.”

“I wasn’t complainin’” and he wiggled his hips again.

Hutch slid his hand, very slowly, from Starsky’s knee, up along the inside of the man’s thigh, brushing past his scrotum with just the edge of a finger and then up along the top of his cock. Starsky made a deep guttural sound as the hand slid back down the way that it came.

Then the hand was gone from his body and Starsky felt suddenly very lonely from its loss. He turned to see his partner roll back towards his nightstand, and open the drawer. 

Knowing what was coming, Starsky spread his legs and bent his knees, putting is feet flat on the bed. The move caused his arm to shoot with pain briefly, but he decided that his arm was the last thing he cared about right now.

Squeezing some of the lube on his fingers, Hutch grasped his lover’s cock, sliding up and down it very slowly, feeling it grow even harder in his touch. Starsky’s breathing was almost labored now, so he put a little more lube on his hand, sliding fingers down to the tight opening he found there. He massaged it in small, soft circles before slipping one finger inside. 

Starsky’s hips rocked up and then Hutch heard a small yelp of pain and he stilled. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this right now. You’re still hurting.”

Between clenched teeth, Starsky groaned out, “Stop now and I’ll shoot you myself.”

Understanding the desperation in his partner’s voice, he got to his knees and nestled between Starsky’s legs, resuming the slow in and out strokes of his finger, while his other hand stroked up one thigh and down again.

Gently, Hutch inserted a second finger, scissoring them slightly, stretching him out, as he grasped the cock that was slick and bouncing with every rock of hips off the bed.

Feeling like he’d prepared his partner, he quickly slicked some more lube on himself and pushed the tip of his penis into the opening as Starsky’s breath caught again in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Not sure if it was due to his entering him or the bandaged arm, Hutch was still for a moment, allowing muscles to grow accustomed to his presence.

“Please, Hutch,” came a quiet but strained voice. With no more encouragement needed, he pushed himself further in, taking his time as he continued to slide his hands lightly up and down the other man’s cock.

Once he as fully in, Hutch leaned down and started to kiss those lips he found irresistible, moving around to pull one earlobe into his mouth. Then he sat up again so he could look into Starsky’s eyes. Moonlight shone in, giving him the chance to see the expressions on his lovers face. Not breaking eye contact, he pumped in and out, never increasing the pace, just quietly claiming what was his.

Starsky stared up, amazed at the love and tenderness he found. That, paired with the incredible gentleness of Hutch’s loving, made silent tears pool in his eyes. 

Even with no rush or hurry, the friction of a hand on a cock and a cock in tight sheath built the tension to a point where it could not be denied. Starksy’s breathing increased as Hutch began to grunt quietly and when the explosion came, he kept a steady pace, riding it out slowly.

Hutch stayed inside his partner, again leaning forward to kiss his ear, “I love you so much I don’t know how I can breathe sometimes.” He whispered.

Starsky’s tears fell in earnest now and he struggled to breathe himself, living the reality of Hutch's words. Carefully, Hutch pulled out and laid next him, pulling the comforter up over them. He kissed the tears as they fell and held Starsk as best he could without jostling the bandaged arm.

Minutes passed and Starsky’s breathing calmed and his sobs stopped. He pulled his good arm up between himself and Hutch, wiping his face and then clasped one of Hutch’s hands in his own.

“I think that was the first make-up sex I’ve ever had.” He half-joked.

Hutch smiled, “Mine too.”

“Really?” Starsky was surprised at that. “I thought you and Van fought all the time. Didn’t you at least get make-up sex out of it?”

“I guess she would have called it that. But it was always rough and fast, like she was using it to get the last word in. This was entirely different.” Hutch pulled their clasped hands between his legs and they both settled into a peaceful sleep.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After helping Starsky wrap up his bandage in cellophane, he let Starsk take his shower and he went out to make breakfast. As he broke eggs he thought back, trying to count the number of times he’d had to Saran Wrap gunshot wounds so his partner could bathe. Four? Five?

He clicked on the radio and adjusted the dial off the country station and back to the rock station Starsky preferred. The knock at the door was so soft he almost didn’t hear it.

Hutch opened the door and stood back as a gesture of invitation as Agent Carlson walked in with the same poise Hutch was used to, but he looked older somehow.

“How’s Starsky this morning?”

“Doing very well actually. He says the narcotics make his brain fuzzy, so he’s getting by on prescription-strength ibuprofen. But he’s never been one to complain much when he’s really hurt. Paper cuts, however, will send him into fits of whining.”

G-man smiled at that. “I have to fly out today, but I couldn’t go without talking to you.”

Hutch nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“Ken, I know you’re mad at me and I know you think I set all this up, but I ran the op as best I could. I would never try to get anyone hurt. You have to know that.”

Hutch placed a hand on the man’s arm and the touch managed to quell him into silence. “Gunnar, we’re OK. You’re one of the best men I know.”

Green eyes sought blue and they just looked at each other for a bit before G-man spoke, “It feels so unfair for the universe to hold you in front of me but tell me I can’t have you.”

“I’ll always be here if you need me. Starsky too. We’ll be the best friends you’ve ever had.”

Agent Carlson hesitatingly wrapped his arms around Hutch and hugged him, leaving a light kiss against the side of his cheek before stepping back.

Noticing the radio for the first time, he looked at Hutch. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a Bowie fan.”

“Not me. This is Starsky’s music.”

Grinning wide enough for the dimples to show, he quipped, “I should have known. Give Strong & Silent a hug for me. And I’d love to come back for Christmas, if you’ll have me.”

“You’re always welcome, G-man.”

“Goodbye, Ken-doll.” Hutch shut the door and listened to the music as he rested his head against the frame.

_Take a look at the lawman, beating up on the wrong guy. Oh man! Wonder if he’ll ever know he’s in the best selling show. Is there life on Mars?_

Hutch sensed Starsk’s presence before he felt the hand rubbing softly on his back.

“What’s up?”

Straightening up, he turned into his partner’s embrace, feeling no less comforted by the fact that it was only one strong arm around him.

“G-man stopped in to say good-bye.”

“Oh. That all?” Hutch noticed that it was just a question, empty of emotion or accusation.

“He’d like to come out for Christmas.”

“Sure. He’s a fun guy to have around, usually.” Hutch glanced up and saw Starsk was smirking a little. After doling out a quick kiss to the stubbly cheek, he walked back to the kitchen.

“You planning on sanding boards with your face today, pal?” Hutch started whipping the eggs together.

“Too hard to shave with my right hand.” Starsky stroked his face absently. “I’ll have you do it for me before we head into the hospital to visit Mer.”

“Yeah, OK.” 

Starsky sat at the table and watched his partner work. Even when it was just cooking breakfast, he loved the way Hutch’s body moved; the muscles of his forearms tensing and relaxing, the focus in his eyes, the strength of his fingers wrapped around the whisk. He found himself over whelmed with emotion again. 

“Hutch?” His voice cracked, which surprised him and then he saw the concern in the blue eyes looking down at him.

“You sure you don’t want one of the vicodin? I could break it in half.”

“No, really, I’m fine. That’s not why I…”

“What?”

“I’m, uh…” he blinked several times because he really wanted to be able to say this without bawling. “I just wanted to thank-you, y’know?”

“Aw, Starsk, you don’t have to thank me. We’ve nursed each other through worse things than a bullet in the arm.”

“Not that.” Seeing the struggle on his partner’s face, Hutch put the bowl of eggs down and pulled a chair up in front of Starsky. He sat down, nestling one knee between the others, resting a hand on the other man’s thigh.

“I wanted to thank-you for,” Starsky couldn’t stop the tears from falling now, “for choosing me.”

Understanding flooded Hutch as he pulled him in close. “You big dummy. Of course I chose you. Me and Thee, remember?" He paused, choking up a little himself. "Thanks for choosing me too.” Starsky’s good arm, rubbed up and down Hutch’s back as they both sniffled back tears and composed themelves.

“Think we should get a dog?” Starsky spoke quietly into Hutch’s neck.

Hutch smiled and pulled away. “You won’t take care of a dog, Starsk. You couldn’t even take care of a guinea pig. So I’d end up taking care of it.”

He stood up and went back to making breakfast.

“I would too! I’d feed it and you could take it running every morning.”

“Not to mention that your clothes would be not only be dirty all the time, but covered in dog hair.”

“We could get one that has short hair.” Starsky stood up and moved over to the coffee pot.

“I’m not cleaning up after you **and** a dog. Forget it.”

Smiling over his cup, Starsky said, “I could train it to put my clothes in the basket.”

“Bullshit. I’d come home to you and the dog lying on the couch watching the game, with pizza boxes and beer cans all around. Don’t look at me like that. You know it’s true.”

“There’s a little pet shop by the PT clinic, y’know. We could stop in after my appointment, just to look.”

“Starsk, you’re incorrigible.”

“No I ain’t. I’m charming. And we’re gettin’ a dog.”

Hutch shook his head smiling, knowing he’d already lost. “What would we call it?”

“Special Agent Hotpants.” Starsky was grinning wide now.

Hutch slapped him hard on his good arm, “No way!” sticking a finger in Starsky’s chest he added, “I’m naming the dog.”

“Sure, babe. Whatever you want.” Starsky grabbed the finger, brought it to his lips and sucked it in slightly.

“I’m never going to be able to say ‘no’ to you am I?” Hutch’s gaze lingered on his partner’s lips.

“Not lookin’ that way.” Starsky drew him in close. “Breakfast can wait.”


End file.
